


To Burgle

by Dach



Series: Galadriel's Hairpin Box [6]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Bilbo is confused, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Burgling, Gen, Honestly I'm a little confused, Mindfuck, Poor Bilbo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-02-10 13:27:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12912882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dach/pseuds/Dach
Summary: "You’re the bumbling protagonist, I’m the unambiguously immoral monster, see? My haven being burgled is meant to provide you with an ‘adventure.’ It’s a plot.”Bilbo gaped. “P-protagonist? As in the hero in the silly books that young hobbits read?”Smaug shrugged. “‘Silly’ is a matter of opinion. But yes.”“So - so what? We’re - what? In a book?”Smaug’s fangs were bared as he made what could probably pass as a grin. “Now you’re catching on.”In which I unashamedly shatter the fourth wall.





	To Burgle

**Author's Note:**

> My teacher quite purposefully gave me an reason to write hobbit fanfiction so here I am, posting it months later.

Bilbo Baggins crept down the corridor, each one of his steps measured, cautious, and absolutely silent. Dread had long since settled in the pit of his stomach, making him feel vaguely nauseous, and the silence around Bilbo set him on edge. He half wanted to turn and run back to where the company waited outside of the secret door, inform them that he was _not_ any sort of burglar, and skip away to go live in Rivendell for the rest of his life. ‘ _Alas_ ,’ Bilbo thought, swallowing in attempt to steel himself, ‘ _I don’t believe that would be acceptable_.’

Bilbo had signed a contract, after all. Though he did, apparently, deviate from serenity, he was nevertheless a contract-abiding hobbit. Bilbo needed to press on - if for the dwarves’ sake and not his own. Plus, it wasn’t like he was to be charging Smaug, or anything like that; that was up to Thorin’s kin. All Bilbo needed to do was burgle a dwarven treasury for a shiny rock. A shiny rock guarded by a dragon. Bilbo almost groaned aloud.

_‘Yavanna, this is stupid,’_ Bilbo thought.

The sensation of trepidation not fading, Bilbo snuck to the entrance of the treasury. Once he looked out of the shadows, his jaw very nearly dropped. In front of him, there spanned a room so vast and cavernous that Bilbo felt rather like a mouse that had found it’s way into Mirkwood’s throne room. The floor was obscured by piles of gold larger than a coach, from which rose stone pillars colossal enough that, in comparison, the golden coins heaped around the base of them glistened like countless metallic rice grains. Lit torches (Bilbo realized with a start that Smaug must be maintaining them) cast some light across the treasure farther away from the entrance. It was not enough light that Bilbo could pick out any intricate details but enough to make the precious metals gleam and cast spots of shadow. A thought occurred to Bilbo and he almost smacked his palm to his forehead in frustration; how in Yavanna’s green Arda was he to find a jewel in this shiny mess?!

Once more, Bilbo entertained the notion that he could turn back now. Once more, he did his best to dismiss it after a couple moments of internal deliberation. The hobbit steeled himself and stepped forward. Now, with the wall he had practically clung to gone, he felt remarkably vulnerable.

The dragon, Bilbo knew, could be anywhere. Maybe it was oblivious to him, maybe not. Maybe it was waiting, hunched out of sight on top of a pillar, maybe it was sound asleep under a mountain of gold. Maybe the dragon wasn’t even in the room.

Bolstered by this possibility, Bilbo made his way to the steps. They were shallow by dwarven standards and Bilbo found it relieving. He’d gotten quite sick of just about climbing the elven stairs in Rivendell and Mirkwood, and the ones leading up the side of Erebor hadn’t been much better. Once he reached the bottom of the staircase and became aware of how worryingly out of reach the exit was, he surveyed the gold once more. It was best to get to work at once, he decided.

 

* * *

  

Ten minutes later found Bilbo’s person still Arkenstone-free. He had, though, found a white jewel that resembled the Arkenstone’s description. Well, he’d also found that walking on gold was annoyingly loud, and that his hobbit feet were pretty much useless to mask the noise, but that was beside the point. Bilbo held the possible “Arkenstone” up and scrutinized it. The gem was white and fit in the palm of his hand, but it didn’t much stand out. Bilbo decided that it doesn’t fit the bill and tossed it aside, carelessly shushing the noise that its fall made. He looked over when the sound of golden coins sliding over each other didn’t cease.

Apparently,  Bilbo’s tossing the gem aside had started a mini avalanche; not one large enough to compromise Bilbo’s safety but one large enough to erode away the side of the treasure-pile that Bilbo stands upon. The clink of metal against metal continued for a long time, the individual noises blending together into a rattling sound that eventually began to trickle away. Bilbo fixed the situation with his most honed “I am so done with this” stare, accompanied by his signature huff. His antics didn’t halt the progress of the mini-avalanche and Bilbo resignedly stepped away from the newly-receded edge of the treasure-pile.

“Here,” a deep voice reverberated to Bilbo’s side. The hobbit froze and slowly turned his head, only to find himself looking into an enormous pair of fiery eyes with slit pupils taller than than Thorin Oakenshield. He felt his heart skip a beat. An enormous creature sat hunched at his side, bat-like wings furled neatly and massive head lowered somewhat, as if to be respectful of Bilbo’s smaller stature. Deep red scales glinting in the torchlight as it moved a wing, the dragon extended a single talon with a white gem balanced upon it. Bilbo made a noise halfway between a sob and a laugh, too paralyzed by shock to do anything else. The dragon waited in apparent patience.

“S-Smaug,” Bilbo eventually managed. The dragon nodded its head and Bilbo couldn’t help but to notice the spiny black protrusions that crowned it. “G-good mor-morning.”

“Is it?” Smaug responded, seeming amused.

“A-ah, well, I su-suppose not,” Bilbo tried to stall, edging away from the dragon. “Actually, it’s - you see, it’s evening, a-and, uh, yes. It’s evening. I just thought I’d en-enjoy a bit of fresh air, you kn-know? W-went out for a st-stroll, found th-the m-mountain, got curious, enter-” Bilbo was cut off as he accidentally stepped a bit too far away from Smaug and went tumbling down the mini-avalanche-site from earlier. He reached the bottom and tried immediately to stumble to his feet, before tripping at once and going back down with a groan of complaint.

Smaug made an absurd noise of mirth, which was somewhere between a cough, a huff, and a chuckle. “Careful, burglar.”

“B-Burglar?” Bilbo squeaked, getting to his feet and then continuing to back away. “M-me? Ah, no, no, not at all. Y’see I’m a-” he went to hook his thumbs where suspenders normally were but succeeded only in flicking his coat-pockets, “h-hobbit. Hobbit of the Sh- the place. The place under the hill. We’re - us hobbits - rather p-peaceful folk. Wouldn’t be burglars. None of us are burglars. Aside from my cousin.” He laughed nervously, then realizes that humor probably wasn’t the best route to go. “Well, no, not really. Really nice people. Eat, drink, garden, sleep, y’know? Peaceful lifestyle really. No burgling. We don’t burgle anything. All honestly bought. So, ah, burglar? Me? Nope. Not in the least.”

Smaug, who had been quiet throughout Bilbo’s fumbled lie, made a noise that, made by anyone else, would have been laughter. “Oh, catch up hobbit. I clearly know you’re a burglar. Why lie?”

“Not lying!” Bilbo maintained.

“Why say that, Bilbo Baggins?”

Bilbo froze again. “Bilbo Baggins? Oh. Ah, not me. I’m- I’m Bilbo _Boggins,_ y’see. Just ask-” he hesitated, realizing he couldn’t exactly name Kili, “- a family friend, or something. I’m-”

“Bilbo Baggins,” Smaug interrupted, looking exasperated. Bilbo wilted. “You must,” Smaug sat back as a cat might on its haunches, “see that it’s unfathomable that I wouldn’t have familiarized myself on my importance to this plot?”

“P-plot?” Bilbo asked, eyes wide.

“Yes,” Smaug nodded, as if encouraging a child. “Plot. The thing that is sort of responsible for literally everything.”

Bilbo was silent for a couple moments. Then: “....like a plan?”

Smaug groaned aloud. “Not exactly. I mean a _plot_. You’re the bumbling protagonist, I’m the unambiguously immoral monster, see? My haven being burgled is meant to provide you with an ‘adventure.’ It’s a plot.”

Bilbo gaped. “P-protagonist? As in the hero in the silly books that young hobbits read?”

Smaug shrugged. “‘Silly’ is a matter of opinion. But yes.”

“So - so what? We’re - what? In a book?”

Smaug’s fangs were bared as he made what could probably pass as a grin. “Now you’re catching on.”

Bilbo repeated himself, voice pitched a bit higher than normal from incredulity. “We’re in a book?!”

“Well, a movie, but I suppose that you wouldn’t recognize the term. Think: a visual book.”

Bilbo nodded, eyes wide. “O-okay. Yes. Er, yes. Just a book. That - would you mind if I left?” He motioned at the exit. Bilbo did _not_ want to be having a discussion an insane dragon.

The dragon huffed a breath, sending hot air washing over Bilbo. The hobbit shivered. “Of course,” Smaug muttered. “I forgot. You’re one of the ones who forged the ‘sensible gentleman’ character archetype, correct?” He didn’t wait for Bilbo to answer. “It’s no wonder that you don’t believe me.”

“Look,” Bilbo tried, drawing himself up and hooking his thumbs in his coat-pockets, “I don’t believe that this, ah, conversation will benefit either of us. So I’ll just….” he took a cautious step away from Smaug. He was emboldened when the dragon didn’t stop him. “Yes, I do believe I’ll be going.” Bilbo puffed up his chest and took another step away from Smaug. Then another. Then another. “A-aren’t you going to stop me?”

Smaug shook his head. “Nope. By all means, continue. I do rather want to see if the movie director will notice how awry this scene has gone and re-direct it.”

“....Re-direct?” Bilbo tried to hide his fear. “H-how will he do that?”

Smaug flicked his tail a little, as if annoyed. “Oh, y’know. Make the whole scene start over.”

Bilbo stared at Smaug in abject horror. “Wh-what?”

“Oh, don’t be like that. You won’t know if it happens or not. The director only keeps takes of scenes that he’s satisfied with. So if he doesn’t keep this one, then you won’t remember any of what I’m talking about and ten minutes earlier, you’ll walk into the treasury all over again.”

Bilbo’s head swam in confusion and he could feel a fainting spell coming on. “So then… this must be a ‘good’ take? Since I remember - er, _know_ it?”

Smaug drew up his wings in an unconcerned shrug. “Not necessarily. Any moment now, you are probably going to restart - in both location and knowledge.”

Bilbo panicked a little. He knew that there was still a very high chance that Smaug was lying, but wasn't sure what else to believe. “H-how do I stop it from happening!?” he asked.

Smaug fixed him with a bored stare, amber eyes neutral. “...You can't.”

“S-so I will just forget!?”

Smaug responded, slowly, “Unless the director is satisfied, then yes.”

Bilbo began pacing, now far too caught up in the flurry of possibilities in his head to even _think_ about the Arkenstone. “H-how does a hobbit - that's it!” Bilbo stomped his foot on the ground, crossing his arms in annoyance. “I demand to speak with this director!”

Smaug shrugged. “You can't exactly do that. He exists in a different plane of existence. He makes us do what we do, we do his bidding.”

“Th-that's-” Bilbo sputtered, “slavery, is it not!?”

“Oh, well, technically.” Smaug nodded, deep voice rumbling. “For us, at least. But on the director's plane of existence, we aren't sentient; merely ideas.” Bilbo gaped. “So in essence,” Smaug continued, “we're subject to his creative licence. No exceptions.”

“Is he trying to get us to observe him, then?” Bilbo asked. “How else could you be telling-”

“No,” Smaug cut in. “It's just that he went to go get a snack. He'll be back any minute and will take charge of this scene once more. He'll probably do a retake, unless we manage to pull off your whole burglar-”

“Wait!” Bilbo interrupted. “How do _you_ know this? If there's already been takes that of this ‘scene’ that _I've_ forgotten, how come you remember?”

“Because,” Smaug replied, patient, “I burgled something I wasn't supposed too. There was a misunderstanding between the director and his special effects team. I burgled a room I wasn't supposed to and the director didn't cut it out of the story. He didn't notice the mistake. It gave me immunity, if that makes any sense.”

Bilbo held up his hands, still confused. “Come again?”

Smaug sighed in exasperation. “In the scene that I attacked Erebor in, I dive-bombed the incorrect tower and took a crossbow from it. As I had technically broken in, then proceeded to steal, it counted as a burgling.”

“I know what burgling is,” Bilbo, said, annoyed. Smaug hushed him and continues.

“Anyway, that wasn't in the plot. So I am no longer a part of that plot. At least not mentally. I'm still a plot _device_ but I'm not mentally subject to it anymore. The burgling broke the fourth wall. I became aware of my surroundings and what dictated my life, you understand?”

Bilbo stared at Smaug blankly. “... No.”

Smaug growled lowly in the back of his throat. “Too bad. I haven't the time to explain any more thoroughly. Now then... if we can pretend that this whole burgling scene went well enough for the director to keep this take once he gets back from his snack break, you'll be freed from the mental grips of the plot. Assuming, of course, that he doesn't notice that I cast this take awry. And assuming that you get around to burgling something you aren’t supposed to too.”

Bilbo stood there in silence. “Thank you?”

“You're very welcome.” Smaug appeared pleased. “Now get moving.” He presented Bilbo with the Arkenstone again, this time with a small ruby beside it. Bilbo took the stones cautiously. “At least _pretend_ that you're burgling this place!” Smaug snorted.

Bilbo took the opportunity to run for the exit like a common thief might, Arkenstone clenched in the palm of one hand and ruby in the other. He didn't think he'd ever been more confused in his life.

“That's the spirit!” Smaug shouted from behind him.

Yes, very confused indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this, remember that I appreciate all the kudos and comments that I get!


End file.
